His Saving Grace
by MarvelMatt
Summary: [Second in the Anything Series] She was his saving grace. The one he'd always hold dear, the one he did everything for, in an attempt to better himself and the world. The for who, he'd stop fighting at the end of the day, just so he could tuck her into bed, and be there as she fell asleep.
1. Weird

**Chapter One – Weird**

* * *

"This is weird"

"You can say that again"

"This is weird"

She shoots him a dry look.

Tripp and May's 'private' conversation can be heard by all of them, which shouldn't be all that surprising given that they're all stood together, watching their sort-of-ex team member through the window.

A year ago, the thought of their resident specialist even being near children for longer than ten seconds would've rendered them all (except for May) into a fit of giggles, and yet, here they all were, 'watching' – read spying – on him as he gives his complete and undivided attention to his four year old daughter.

And they think it's weird.

But Skye can't say they're wrong.

Out of all of them, she'd spent the most time with them, and not once, not _ever_ , did he even give a ghost of a hint of a clue, that he had a daughter. They all had him pegged as a lone wolf, the stoic, by-the-book, emotionless soldier. He'd shown them hints of actual emotion, but nothing solid and consistent.

So yeah, she had to admit, watching him shower a four year old with love and affection to a point even she thought was past sweet it could be called sickly, was just _weird_.

Ward's daughter was tall for her age, though considering her father stood at six foot and four inches tall, that wasn't too surprising. He was the tallest person on the base, just edging out Mack, who had joined them as their new mechanic.

Her hair was a deep brown colour and colour with streaks of blonde. She already had strong features, which resulted in her physically resembling her father a great deal, which meant she would definitely be attractive when she was older.

The team couldn't decide on who to pity more, Ward as the girl's father, or any would-be boyfriend she brought home.

Something told them Ward would not be forgiving when it came to his little girl.

"I wonder if his ears are ringing"

They are all shaken out of their musings by the arrival of Coulson, who strode through the doors leading towards his office, making his way to where they had congregated in the corridor, with three people trailing behind him.

They all exchange wary glances with each other, though May and Tripp's are more calculating than wary, before Coulson decided to take the plunge, in an attempt to break the ice, with his usual cheery smile, "Well then, let's get inside and do the meet and greet, shall we?"

And with that, he pushed open the door to the lounge.

* * *

She giggled as she ran back to him, grasping another fresh piece of paper in her tiny hands. She leapt at him, from where he was lounging one the floor, propped up against one of the couches, his back against one of the arms, with one knee close to his chest with the second one extended straight out in front of him.

He grabbed her straight out of the air, sending a new course of giggles through her, and he felt his face morph into a grin.

It was a weird feeling, he had to admit, thanks to the 'gifts' his father had passed onto him, he'd never really been able to tap into, or even show, any real form of emotion – forming the attachments was just too difficult for him to manage.

Not even Fury, who'd pulled him out of Plymouth Juvenile Detention Centre, given him fresh clothes, a hot meal and a new purpose in life, rarely managed to get more than a glimpse of a real smile. He'd taught him a good set of values though – strong, moral ones – before allowing him to train as a fully-fledged agent of SHIELD.

When he'd started The Academy, he'd wanted to be one of the best.

Thanks to Fury, they were calling him the next Romanoff, and he'd even worked with her when he was a junior agent – he'd been handpicked to serve on STRIKE Team Delta.

He'd always be grateful for that – both to Fury for helping him get that far, and to Barton, for giving him the opportunity to prove himself.

He'd felt something on the day he graduated – as one of the youngest and fastest recruits ever to enter The Academy – which he was told was pride. He hadn't known what he was supposed to _do_ with it, so he buried it, ignored it.

It just hadn't _done_ anything.

So that's what he did, he became the man who just didn't _feel_ anything. He started working to be the best he could be – the best since Romanoff – a remark which still irritated him. He wanted to be _the_ best.

Okay, so he'd learnt a bit more about his pride and developed a slight ego, but in his own defence…

He was _that_ good.

But he'd never got around to anything more than different forms of anger, some pride, both in himself and his work, and attraction – which was mostly just lust.

Which led him back to his baby girl.

Being of a loner mentality, often spending months away at a time, and never staying inactive for too long, specialists never bothered to establish real world connections, they just weren't possible – or practical, which suited him just fine. Whenever two specialists felt their urges and weren't on mission, they just 'took care' of each other.

Which was how he met his daughter's mother.

They were both on their down time when they both felt like they wanted sex, and they found each other attractive. They slept together several times over the course of the single week they had together, before he was sent off to run the backend of a mission in Budapest.

He'd never heard from her again, and three months later he'd all but forgotten about her altogether, which was just what specialists did.

It was fifteen months after their first and only meeting that Fury ordered his ass out of the embassy in Warsaw, blowing his cover in the process, and had him escorted back to The Hub for a meeting.

It was there he heard the full story.

His partner – for lack of a better term – had either forgotten to take the pill, or it hadn't worked (which was more likely) and as a result, she had gotten pregnant. She'd endured the pregnancy alone, taken a desk job in The Hub before she gave birth and for a short while afterwards, and then she had begun training to return to the field as a part time field agent. Apparently she'd been ecstatic to receive the call to return to the field.

She never returned home.

Fury had shown him the mission report filled in by the senior field agent overseeing the op – Agent P Coulson – which was ironic, and then given him the girl's birth certificate.

She was named Grace Jeanne Ward – she had his surname.

He was then given a list of SHIELD approved orphanages – he remembered seeing St. Mary's on the list, now that he thought about it – and told that he had to make a decision before the end of the week, before he was left alone after they presented his daughter to him for the first time.

She was tiny in that blanket, with soft wisps of black curls on top of her head, and bright blue eyes that would eventually settle into the same shade of brown as his own. The agent who brought her was clearly upset, Grace was visibly fighting her, not liking the strange woman who had a hold of her, and who seemed relieved to be rid of her, which was evident as she left the room as fast as she could without seeming overly rude.

Not that he'd noticed – Grace was taking up all of his attention.

He settled her into the crook of his arm, before taking a real look at her.

She was perfect.

She would always be perfect.

And that's when he knew for definite that he could access his positive emotions because he loved her, and he would do _anything_ to protect her.

No matter the personal cost.

She settled in to his chest, making soft gurgling noises which brought tears to his eyes, which he had to swipe furiously at his face.

In his haste, he almost dropped her.

She giggled at that, and his heart leapt into his throat. She was definitely his daughter.

Only his family could be that crazy, but for her sake, he hoped, genetically, she shared as little with him as possible.

When he got settled, and sat down in a chair, still cradling her, he traced her with his finger, causing her to giggle again, as he ran over her outline, before reaching up to grab his finger, and he let her as he grinned back at her curious form, feeling pride again, but not for himself this time, but for her.

She swiped at him a few times, as he made encouraging sounds at her, watching as she never gave up, getting closer each time, before she grabbed hold of his finger and squeezed tightly, her grip was strong.

He hadn't allowed her to let go since.

* * *

"Ward!"

He looked up from where Grace was starting yet another picture (it's not like he had kept every one she'd ever given him in a box in his wardrobe), which he wasn't allowed to see yet – "It's a secret Daddy!" – to find a new and familiar face taking position against one of the other couches, and he nodded in greeting.

"Agent Hartley"

"Agent Ward", she returned his greeting, before he caught a good look at the two men who were with her. Hartley followed his gaze before introducing him, "You've met Idaho before I believe", both men nodded in greeting, "this is Lance Hunter. He's-"

"Barbara Morse's ex-husband. Ex British SAS. Currently working as a top tier mercenary out in the Middle East, or at least", he looked him up and down, acknowledging his presence, he added, "reportedly is"

The British man regarded him with ever increasing eyebrows, until he calmed them down and his face settled into an expression of pity, "So you know the demonic Hell beast that is my ex-wife? I'm sorry to hear that"

He heard a few breathy chuckles from his right, which told him the rest of the team had finally deigned to join them, after watching through the window for the last half hour, but he kept his focus locked on the three newcomers. Hartley seemed closer to both of the two men than they were to each other, but it was hard to tell – they definitely had a strong bond.

"Specialists don't make many friends, so we tend to stick together. It's a small community – we pretty much all know each other"

"She never mentioned you"

"She wouldn't have. Like I said, we weren't friends. Word just got around that she was getting married and then someone spread around who it was to as well. Marriage is a rare thing for a specialist. The divorce, not so much"

"What about you?" Hunter gestured to the where Grace was sat hovering over the table, "Married?"

"No"

"Girlfriend then?"

"No"

They all seemed to want him to elaborate on that, but he had no intention of doing so. The team – _his_ team had all been avoiding him for weeks, with the exception of Coulson who took time to find them every day and check up on them, which was a nice gesture. He wasn't ready for straight up forgiveness, but he was at least trying, for which he was grateful.

If nothing else, he'd given him understanding, which was all he really wanted.

And he wasn't sharing his secrets with two people he didn't know at all, and one sort-of old friend that in reality, he barely knew at all and hadn't seen in years.

At least Coulson seemed to trust them, so he supposed that had to count for something.

"So I take it you all know each other then?"

Idaho rolled his eyes in response, "No we've never met before. We just happen to be very good at guessing"

"Anyway", Coulson tactfully ignored the blatant sarcasm, he'd had a lot of practice with that over the last few months, "since you've already met Agent Ward, Agent Hartley, Mr Idaho and Mr Hunter, allow me to introduce Deputy Director Melinda May", who nodded in greeting, "Agent Antoine Triplett, one of our specialists", who offered a cheery wave, "Agent Skye", who followed May's greeting of a nod, "Agent Leopold Fitz, our lead engineer", who gave them a brief wave, "and I believe you already know Agent Mackenzie, our new mechanic"

"We do", they turned their attention to him, "how've you been?"

"Me? I'm good. How'd you lot survive The Fall?"

Hartley grimaced at the memory, "We were undercover when our covers got blown. We fought our way out. Laid low. Eventually Philly here", Coulson's nose crinkled at the nickname, "whose not dead. Still want an explanation for that by the way, caught up with us, offered us a job, and here we are"

"Well then, now that that's out of the way. We have a briefing to start"

* * *

He watched as they all moved from the entryway towards the far side of the room, where a holo-table was set up, serving as Coulson's main briefing area for his senior staff, which apparently now included Hartley, while Idaho wandered off towards the fridge and Hunter dropped to the floor at his side.

"So who's the little one?"

He raised his eyebrow as he looked at the Brit, pulling away when he realised their faces were a bit too close for comfort. He was about to respond when Idaho took a similar position on the floor to his left, leaning against one of the armchairs, before offering them both beers. Hunter reached over and took one without hesitation, while his hand stilled momentarily before he accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Before he could reply, a familiar weight set itself upon his lap, and his head turned to see Grace, who had come to investigate, deciding the best place to sit was on his lap, with her wide brown eyes – the same shade as his very own – trained intently on Hunter, who returned her gaze with an amused look on his face.

"Who are you?"

She definitely didn't get her sense of discretion from him.

That had to be from her mother.

"Well aren't you an … _inquisitive_ little one?"

She regarded the mercenary for a full minute, staring at him intently, before shrugging and turning back to face him, and he noted for the first time, that she looked drowsy, which she confirmed by putting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his ribs.

"Daddy 'm tired"

She punctuated her statement with a yawn, he felt the heat of her breath through the thin layer of his shirt, and then the change in her breathing told him she was asleep. He moved her over, so that she was on his left shoulder and he could use his arm to support her, while he reached across to brush her hair out of her eyes, before leaving her to settle, taking a swig of his beer, and joining in the two mercenaries' discussion on SHIELD's arsenal of weaponry.

* * *

"Any questions?"

He finished the main part of his briefing, keeping it to the point and not letting his team veer off on tangents. He'd gotten to the end of the points he'd wanted to cover, which he wanted to follow with a review of everyone's roles, considering they had more people to work with, when he realised he'd lost his audience.

Hartley and Mack were sharing a smirk while shooting glances towards Skye, who was trying (and failing) not to stare at, he followed her gaze to where Ward was sat, cradling Grace against his chest. He turned his attention back to his resident hacker, who had a look on her face which he would describe as a cross between wistful and sad.

He fought the urge to groan.

Apparently the two of them were back to their flirting/not flirting and in love/avoidance pattern – the one that either gave him and May a resounding headache, _or_ … something to laugh at, depending on which day it was and how riled up Skye could get Ward.

He took a quick glance at his second in command, and found her wearing her usual blank mask. Though, after knowing her for years, he could see the annoyance in her eyes. She'd commandeered Skye's training, but the hacker hadn't actually requested a change of SO – she was either putting it off or didn't actually want to swap, and was just avoiding Ward.

There was a lot of that going around.

So in short, yes, this was definitely a headache.

One thing he knew about Hartley was that she had a wicked sense of humour, and the glances she was giving Skye, flicking between her and Mack, who seemed torn between stopping her now and watching for whatever she's planning.

"So is he single?"

 _That_ was not where he was expecting her to go.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Ward, Coulson. Keep up. Single dads are hot. Is he single?"

Fitz and Tripp cough out noises of disbelief, while Mack and May are both amused, and it takes him a second to figure out why.

Skye's radiating anger at the older woman, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent him from laughing – especially when he sees the glint of laughter reflected in Hartley.

She's deliberately making Skye jealous.

As Director, he needs to be level headed, cool, calm and collected at all times. As a human being, he feels like this is a bad idea, and maybe a bit much. As the agent who was given a team, and made to watch them interact and work together for a year …

Why haven't they done this before?

There's a number of female agents on base who'd do it if he asked, or even a few who'd do it anyway.

On second thought, he's not quite sure how he feels about that.

* * *

They've just finished discussing the differences in their preferred styles of assaults, because, well it's the only thing they're sure to have in common, when Hartley takes a seat in between him and Hunter, pushing the Brit sideways, so that there's not enough sofa backing for him, and, grumbling, move moves to take a seat next to Idaho.

And that's when she starts, what ends up as a pseudo game of twenty questions between them, about his work over the last ten years, while sharing a few stories of her own. The tone is light, almost friendly, and they've just finished her story of the daring escape from Belize in '08 when they're interrupted by Coulson.

Most of the team has dispersed, there's just Skye, Mack and Coulson with the four of them, and Coulson motions towards the clock on the wall, which reads 22:03.

"We've got an early mission tomorrow", they recognised the same tone of dismissal he normally uses, before he addresses him directly, "the mission pack's on your bed"

"You need a mission pack?"

He turned to a slightly confused Hunter, "Yeah. Being around me makes them … _uncomfortable_ ", he stresses the last word, knowing that Skye can hear him, and he wouldn't be unsurprised if the others were listening in from the corridor, "so I just read the mission packs"

"Ah. Fair enough", he looks thoughtful for a moment, "so what's you role in this crazy setup?"

"I'm SHIELD's senior field agent", he watched the shock register on their faces, "I am responsible for the oversight of all field operations which includes the training and development of all the new recruits"

"So you're like Mr PT for SHIELD?"

He let out a small snort, "I suppose that's one way of putting it", he paused, before adding, "and when we get back, I'll be putting you three through your paces, and if you survive, we'll see about making you two", he gestured to the two mercs, "real SHIELD agents", he stood up and turned to look at Coulson, "I'll be prepped and ready to go. You'll be watching Grace for me. Night all"

He walked away to the choking sounds of disbelief, not noticing Coulson's cringe at the memory of pink glitter down his suit, he paused to open the door, the stop in his pacing jarring her slightly, which was enough to startle her, and with one hand on the door handle, he stilled as she looked up at him.

"Da-", she yawned, "-ddy"

"Shh Baby", he rocked her slightly, "don't go back to sleep. We need to get you ready for bed"

She resettled her head against his shoulder, muttering, "Mmm … 'kay", as she returned to her slumber, completely ignoring him.

He brushed her hair out of her face as he gently prised to door open, before slipping out and heading for their adjoining rooms.

* * *

"Is he always like that?"

Hartley's voice cut through the room, shaking them all out of their slightly stunned silence as they watched Ward walk away, carrying Grace on his arms.

Coulson regarded her with a slightly lost look, "What do you mean?"

She shot him a dry one in return, "Ward? Nice? I remember him as a rookie", Skye's eyes bugged out slightly, "I thought he didn't have emotions?"

Coulson grimaced, "Ward is … complicated. He has difficulty forming emotional attachments, and his brain struggles to process his emotions. As for the why … it's all in his file", he saw Skye about to turn on him, so he added, "which is now classified Level Ten, so no, none of you can see it"

He tried not to smirk as the two women pouted.

"What about the girl?"

Idaho's voice was quiet as he asked his question, reminding them all that he was actually there. If his behaviour was anything to go by, then he was a man of few words.

"You mean Grace?" At his nod, he pushed on with an explanation, "Apparently he can … 'connect' … with her more easily because they're family. It apparently takes him months to form connections that should take people like us weeks, or even just days"

"He seemed to like us well enough"

Coulson grimaced, "Yes, well, he doesn't have many friends", Skye grimaced on his right, "I am surprised he took a liking to you though"

"What actually happened with him?"

"It's a bit of a long story", he looked thoughtful for a moment, ignoring the look Skye was shooting at him, "and it's not mine to tell"

* * *

Waking her gently, and changing her from her dress into her pyjamas took several minutes longer than it usually did, due to her sleepy state. After she finished changing, he marched her into the bathroom to brush her teeth, before she clambered into bed, pulling her favourite stuffed, bright green dinosaur tight against her.

He sat at the side of her bed, reading one of her favourite bedtime stories, this time in French, as she drifted off into sleep.

He ran his hand through her hair as she lay there, recalling the blonde streaks to be a trait of her mothers, a trait he had found quite attractive on her. It was a shame that he didn't remember her better.

One day Grace would have questions that he just _wouldn't_ have the answers to.

She was quite witty, if he recalled correctly, with a fiery level of passion, which was why they had spent the week together. She had come up to him when he was in the bar, boldly declared her intentions of screwing him for the week, and then they'd spent a week travelling between their two apartments, and at the end of the week, they'd gone their separate ways, as was the norm for specialists and as they had agreed to – there were no romantic feelings involved.

He'd almost completely forgotten about her until he'd been introduced to his daughter over a year later.

 _What if she hadn't died? Would I even know about Grace?_

That startled him.

She'd become such an ingrained part of his life that he couldn't remember not having her around. The seven months he'd spent on The Bus had been the longest he'd gone without her since he'd taken over her custody – not counting his checking up on her every time he returned to The Hub to stock up.

The three months John had her for were Hell. He had to trust in the word of a psychopath that she was alright. That she was alive. That if he complied, he'd get her back in one piece.

How he _despised_ John Garrett.

The Hub had had a school installed when Fury relaxed the rules on fraternisation and more agents started having inter-agency families, and he was _very_ proud to say that Grace had been the top of her class, and she excelled at learning foreign languages.

She got that from him.

He felt that stupid grin stretch his face wide, the same grin that ended up there whenever he was with Grace for longer than ten minutes, before he forced a scowl back onto his face, and then relaxed into a blank mask, schooling his features.

Brushing a kiss across her forehead, he readjusted the covers, tucking her in tighter, and flicking on her nightlight, _just in case_ , he moves towards the door, pausing to switch off her bedroom light, he sends one last glance backwards, before slipping out and heading for his own room.

He had a mission pack to review before he could get some sleep.

But at least he was making Coulson babysit again.

 _Now where did she leave the glitter glue?_

* * *

 **Author's Note**

So I've decided to do a follow up series to 'Anything', in which we'll see different and varying reactions, both in the present, and maybe some set in the past.

I'm also taking prompts, so feel free to drop me a line with scenes you'd like to see.

And lastly, I've named the daughter - Grace Jeanne Ward- MAJOR kudos to anyone who can figure out why she has those two names. Hint - both names come from a MARVEL comics character.

-MarvelMatt


	2. Dangerous

**Chapter 02 – Dangerous**

* * *

The two of them, Idaho and himself, are mercs, and he's not gonna lie about it, he just pretty much does what he wants, or what he's told (bought) to do, for large sums of money, just so he can waste it later on whatever the Hell he wants.

Fancy a gold watch? Sure, why not? Sports car? He'll take two, the second for when he totals the first. Game of cards? Abso-fucking-lutely. Hookers? No.

Well … there was that _one_ time.

And besides - it was totally Idaho's fault anyway.

The point is - no job is ever off limits. No task is too difficult. Nothing is too scary for him.

So long as the price is right.

Well … except maybe when he has to face Bo-.

No! Now is not the time to be thinking about her of all people.

 _Bloody she-devil._

Right where was he? Oh right!

The point.

The point is after everything he's seen and done, the people he's met and the people he's fought, it's quite possible that this Agent Ward fellow might just be the most _dangerous_ bloke he's ever met.

And that's saying one Hell of a lot.

So, like Idaho and Izzy, he'd been all prepped and ready to go for their first mission as official SHIELD consultants - Izzy wanted to be a real agent again, he'd even read the mission pack he'd been given and everything!

Well … sort of - Hartley had told him what to expect, but still, that counts right?

It totally does.

It was _supposed_ to be just a little bit of recon, to see if the building was a HYDRA storage facility, but in true to standard ' _everything always has to go to shit_ ' style, it had turned into an all-out between SHIELD and the HYDRA forces that had remained - the warehouse had been mostly abandoned, but it was still too crowded for a firefight without causing massive amounts of crossfire and ricochets, so it had to be a fistfight, and that was fine with him, he'd been in dozens of brawls, and expected to be in dozens more, he knew what to expect just fine.

He and Idaho were back to back, looking out for each other, as they lashed out with their preferred brawling style, using their right hooks and low kicks. He saw Hartley doing her thing, fighting two off simultaneously, while she already had one in the floor, out cold.

He was aware of Tripp (it was Tripp wasn't it? - he couldn't remember), snarling in rage as he manhandled another one, with one already unconscious at his feet, still twitching slightly, attempting to crawl away, before he had a knee dropped across his face.

 _That_ _ **had**_ _to hurt._

The other two women, Skye (or was it Sky?) and May (or was it Ming?), were teamed up, taking on three HYDRA goons between them, flipping through their attackers with difficulty, having trouble predicting each other's steps and movements, causing them to keep bumping into each other as they fought, knocking one another off balance each time they did, but still, they already had three bodies littering the floor around them.

And that's when he saw him.

They'd been working with SHIELD for less than a day, and he barely knew any of the SHIELD agents there (or none of them really), so he had nothing really to judge any of them on, but Hartley seemed to like, or at least respect him, and he had a little girl who he obviously adored and doted on, so he couldn't be too bad, he just didn't get why everyone was avoiding him.

Not that it was any of his business.

The man had introduced himself as SHIELD's senior field agent, responsible for overseeing all training. So based on that, and at the very least, he expected the man to be good for a fight.

He was not disappointed.

There was a small pile of bodies already littering the floor near him, as he continued to engage anyone who was stupid enough to go near him.

He lashed put with another right hook of his own, clearing the viewing space between them as he watched another fool attempt to take out the specialist alone, only to be dispatched quite effectively.

It was quite fascinating actually - to watch the way he fought - there was no wasted movement in his actions. He pulled back, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike, the best opportunity to cause maximum damage with minimal effort.

He stepped back slightly, letting his latest attacker overstep on his attack, and fall off balance, before striking out, the palm of his hand colliding with the side of his attacker's head, slamming it against the nearest surface - which was whatever the tarp behind him was covering (it sounded solid) - before he pulled back his hand back, letting his opponent slump to the floor, as unconscious as the rest of his buddies.

His attention was pulled away from Ward by another HYDRA goon trying to get the drop on him.

 _Hah!_

He might be some combat machine designed to destroy whatever was put in front of him, but he had been an SAS soldier for years - a member of the world's most elite fighting force, masters in combat and stealth tactics - he wouldn't go down so easily. He'd trained with SHIELD's Mockingbird, even met and taken a few pointers from _The_ Hawkeye, he sure as Hell wasn't going to lose here.

He felled his last foe, and turned around triumphantly to see that the others had done the same, and took delight in seeing the same scenario had occurred around the room. Modest piles of bodies littered the room, and he felt a deep feeling of smug satisfaction.

His scan of the room continued as the others moved together, May calling in for their ex-fil team, before his gaze settled on Ward's resting place, where he was leaning against the tarp he'd just used as a weapon. He crossed the few paces to join him, using the space next to him to lean against, and take a breather.

He couldn't not notice the slight shake in the man's hands, and he spotted the blood flecks on his knuckles, which was obviously the source of his discomfort, given that he was clawing at them, though he couldn't exactly be sure why.

He doubted it was the first time he'd had blood on his hands, being one of the old SHIELD's premiere field agents.

Wordlessly, he reached down for the nearest HYDRA soldier, before grabbing a dropped knife and slicing out one of his trouser pockets, offering it to the larger man to use as a handkerchief.

He received a muttered "Thanks" as a response, before the specialist began meticulously wiping the blood away, his hands no longer shaking, and he took the moment to observe the bigger man.

His entire demeanour was completely serious, except for when his girl was involved, and every movement he took was calculated, there was no wasted movement in his actions, each bit of sinew and muscle working together perfectly, and with a deadly efficiency.

He remembered the apparent ease with which he'd taken down over the dozen men he'd just fought and resolved right then and there, _never_ to make Grant Ward angry with him.

It takes him a day later to realise it, but he decides it's a resolution that's well made.

* * *

They returned to base, to be debriefed before food and rest, after he and Idaho stopped laughing their asses off at Coulson.

The Director had stepped out to greet them as they'd exited the plane, dressed, as he seemingly always was, in a tailored suit and tie.

It was the fact that he had bright, shiny pink hair, and flowers made of glitter, glued onto his cheeks. A sleeping Grace was held in his arms, who was immediately passed off to Ward as he stepped off the rear ramp, his mirth was readable behind his eyes. The older man stilled in the act of passing her over to him, so that he could lock eyes with his specialist, noting the laughter dancing there, before he swept his gaze over the rest of them, and saw the expression mirrored in the rest of his agents' faces.

"Not. _One_. Word"

"Of course", smirking slightly, the specialist couldn't help but add, "Petal"

That was all it took for the two of them to lose it.

Idaho snorted first, which set both of them off, and before long they were clutching to each other, helping each other to stand. It took a few minutes for them to regain their individual balances, struggling to stand, they finally let go of each other, but kept a case of the giggles going. From the corner of his eye he saw Tripp (yes - he'd definitely heard Skye call him that on the way back) and Izzy grinning madly, while the others all had smirks on their faces.

Skye actually had her head down, using her hair to cover her face.

 _Smart girl._

The rest of them stepped off the ramp, all of them walking past the slightly red-in-the-face Coulson, as they all moved for the briefing room.

They each took a seat around the meeting table, with Coulson remaining standing at the front, and he snagged the seat directly opposite the man, while Ward stood directly behind him giving May his usual seat, while he lightly swayed with Grace in his arms, trying to keep her asleep until Coulson released them and he could put her to bed.

While the briefing continued, with Coulson still coloured in pink with glittery flower cheeks, Hunter couldn't stop his gaze from wandering over to the side that Ward had moved off to in his swaying, and his eyes sought out the specialist's hands.

They were around his girl, supporting her as he cradled her against his shoulder, one hand under her, supporting her from the bottom as her legs dangled down, while the other went up her back before resting at the back of her head, helping to support her neck.

He just couldn't reconcile the image from a few hours ago - shaky hands meticulously wiping away the blood from his hands - with the sight of the same two hands keeping hold of a little girl like she was a precious gemstone.

Mind you, to him, she was probably a lot more valuable than precious gemstone.

A diamond in the sky.

But the two images just didn't fit together in his head.

He's aware he's staring - and he's also aware that he's not the only one.

If he'd bothered to check, he would've seen Skye openly doing the same, while the others kept trying (and failing) to send him discrete glances, in the hopes he wouldn't notice.

Not for the first time (and he's only been there a day), he wonders exactly what happened to make the others so constantly suspicious of him, why they seem to be torn between hating him and looking at him like they want nothing more than to help with the girl and give him a hug.

Except for May (Ming? - He still hasn't heard anyone say her name), she just ignores him outright.

SHIELD agents, he decides - also not for the first time since he get there (and through his past experience) - need to get their priorities straightened out.

Coulson quickly becomes aware that he's lost his captive audience, and dismisses them, telling them to go and get cleaned up before getting some well-deserved rest.

Ward is the first one out the door, and he wastes no time in following him, catching up to him at the end of the corridor, pulling open one of the doors so that the specialist doesn't have to let go of Grace, the bigger man offers him his thanks as he steps to his left, walking alongside him, Grace in the middle of them, as they made their way towards the father and daughter's adjoining bunks, opening the door for the two of them as they arrived.

He stood there, watching as he moved about his daughter's room in the dark, relying on what seemed like nothing more than his memory of the place, as his feet only touched the floor, where there was nothing to create a noise.

Using the gaps on the floor, the specialist moved to place his daughter in her bed, before crossing the room to her wardrobe, to grab her pyjamas, which were bright pink, and held the image of a princess riding on a pony.

He looked away as the specialist swapped his daughter's clothes, giving them their privacy, before giving them his attention when he saw movement from the bed's covers. He watched on as the supposedly gruff loner, gently tucked his daughter into bed, patting down the covers, and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, before smoothing her hair away from her forehead, smiling at her the entire time.

He remembered watching him fight earlier, and just how deadly he had thought the other man to be. Then he looked the image in front of him, and compared what he had seen.

Fact Number One: Grant Ward was NOT, as some of the others had said, emotionless. No monster could kill and feel remorse … or shame.

Fact Number Two: Grace Ward was very much the apple of her father's eye, and the centre of his universe - he pitied anyone who thought it would bode well for them to get between them.

Fact Number Three: Nearly all of Coulson's senior staff were wary of him - they weren't exactly afraid of him, but it was obvious that something had happened between them, and he was willing to bet that it had involved Ward's baby girl.

Fact Number Four: He and Skye had massive crushes on each other and weren't willing to do anything about it, which was hurting them both. He just couldn't tell if it had anything to do with the thing no one would talk about, or the fact that he was a single dad.

Or both.

It was like he said, these SHIELD agents needed to get their priorities straightened out before he did something about it.

* * *

"Owww…"

He trailed off as he was sent to the mat again. Ignoring Izzy's chuckle from where she was stood next to Grace on the side-lines, her and Idaho having already had their 'turns' on the mat, and she had moved to watch to watch the girl do the work she'd been given, while watching on as her father 'trained' them.

He _hated_ training in the morning.

So _why_ did he keep getting up voluntarily?

* * *

 **Earlier that Week**

By 'train' them, he meant they'd each taken to the mats, only to have Agent Ward repeatedly put them on their arses without breaking a sweat. To be fair though, Izzy hadn't actually been too bad, she'd been as swift and nimble as ever when they'd started their matches - when he'd beaten her for the first time, she'd demanded a rematch … and then a second and a third - until he and Idaho had to forcibly drag her off the mats, when she was beaten for the fourth time quite soundly (not that they'd tell her that), as Ward got wiser each time to her slight patterns, while every time she thought she had one of his ideas pinned down, he'd change up his own fighting style completely, keeping her off-balance and increasingly frustrated, especially as Grace insisted on clapping every time 'Daddy' won.

The more frustrated she got, the wilder her moves became, and then she became even more frustrated.

A vicious cycle.

And a solid game plan.

Idaho had stepped up to the plate after that, dropping into a fighting stance that immediately showed off his preferred street fighting style mixed with some of the of Muay Thai he'd picked up on the streets over the years. He cracked his neck from side to side, before throwing the specialist a cocky grin, and receiving a raised eyebrow in response.

The raised eyebrow morphed into a small smirk as the specialist moved into a matching position. The other two watched one as their roles were reversed. Now Idaho was the unsure one. Now Ward wore the smirk and Idaho's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Their match was vicious.

Unlike before, when he kept his eyes focused, intent on tracking Hartley's movements, Ward kept a smug expression on his face, maintaining a small grin as he launched into his attacks, slowly pushing Idaho into a rage at the almost carefree expression of glee the specialist wore. A rage which pushed Idaho to begin to fight harder, stronger, and more viciously, forgoing the use of his fists and changing his fighting style to highlight the use of his elbows and knees, intending to cause as much damage as possible, in an attempt to actually damage cause damage to Ward.

Hunter felt worry for the SHIELD agent creep up slightly, and the shifting in her position told him Izzy felt the same.

Grace just sat at the side, maintaining a look of glee on her face as she completely ignored her math work, in favour of cheering on her 'daddy'.

But then, just as it seemed Idaho was about to break him, Ward turned the tide in his favour.

Keeping the smug smirk in face, he returned Idaho's vicious assault with a blank fury, matching him vicious blow for vicious blow. They fought like animals fighting over scraps of meant.

But in the end, which was, in reality, only three minutes later, Ward ended it swiftly and certainly, trapping him in a rear choke hold that caused Idaho to tap out after a few seconds of struggle. It became apparent to them, that in his mind, there was no way he was ever going to lose.

In the back of his own mind, Hunter registered that this was probably the exact same way Ward approached every fight.

He had the mentality of a true soldier – that 'do or die' instinct was ingrained deeply within him, never letting himself even just imagine defeat, because to him, defeat was synonymous with death.

It was the same sort of fighting mentality that the SAS had wanted to ingrain into him.

They hadn't quite managed … his personal mantra continued to be fight or flee - whatever pays better.

So, warily, he stepped on to the mats, feeling as though he'd seen enough from the other man to feel prepared enough for his own sparring match, which he began with sending out an experimental jab.

He found himself promptly flipped over the larger man's shoulder and onto his back.

He hadn't even lasted ten seconds.

He scrambled to his feet, jumping straight back into his fighting position, he readied himself to go again, sending a right hook straight for Ward's jaw, not giving him any time to prepare.

He used his left hand to bat it aside at the last second, causing his knuckles to bounce off his shoulder. The impact spurred him on, as he pushed the slight advantage he'd made for himself, throwing rights and lefts as the specialist brought his hands up to block his face as he was pushed back.

He felt Izzy's raised eyebrows and heard Grace's cheers as they watched on, as he seemed to be winning, before he allowed himself to smirk as he leant into his next punch.

As he leant into the knee Ward slammed into his gut.

His punch met the air over Ward's shoulder, and he felt the air rush out of his lungs, as bile leapt from his stomach and into his mouth, dripping past his lips and onto the mat.

He was aware of Izzy and Idaho pulling him up to his feet, and guiding him to a chair, where he continued to heave and wheeze until his stomach settled, and his breath returned to his body. He was grateful when he felt his lungs begin to expand properly, filling his lungs with fresh air once again.

"You okay?"

Still breathing heavily, he looked up to where his opponent was standing, a mixture of slight concern and amusement flitting across his face.

"Yeah", he took a few breaths to steady himself, "I'll be fine … just give me a minute"

The specialist regarded him coolly, flicking his glance to the other three, "You all did fine. We're done here for the day. May trains in here between six thirty and eight. I'd advise not being in here before then, other than that you're free to use the gym whenever you please. I also advise you each train daily if you plan on being full-time field agents, but that's not mandatory. You're all welcome to use me for additional training if you want it"

"Wait … what?" Hartley looked up at the man in disbelief, "You just wiped the floor with us!"

He smirked in reply, "I know", before his face settled into neutral as his little girl stepped next to him and he placed a hand on her shoulder, "you finish your work yet baby girl?"

When she shook her head in response, he responded by rolling his eyes, "Come on, let's go get it finished"

The trio looked on as the father-daughter duo crossed the room, pausing only to turn back and face them at the door.

"And you three", he shot them an attempt at a smile, "welcome to SHIELD"

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

A bit of an outsider's viewpoint, as we see and hear from Hunter only in this chapter.

Interesting for me, as I've never written for him before, and I'm interested to know hat you guys thought of it.

And as always, please leave me some feedback below.

- **MarvelMatt**


	3. Question Time

**Chapter Three: Question Time**

* * *

"Owww"

She moaned lightly, hissing through clenched teeth, as she half-limped, half-walked into the dining area, much to the complete amusement of Hunter, as he tried his best to hide his laughter at her, from where he was sat at the breakfast counter, slowly nursing his cup of tea, and completely ignoring the roasting pot of coffee that was resting on the side.

"It's been over a month", at her lack of response, he let out an exasperated sigh, "I really don't get why you keep going back luv. Shoulda joined me 'n' Idaho when we decided to use our mornings to rest easy"

Hartley grit her teeth, before gingerly placing the frozen peas she'd grabbed from the freezer on her way past, which she was now using as a makeshift icepack, against her sore ribs.

"Because I know he's beatable, there's no one that can't not be beaten, and I'm damn well going to be the one to figure out how to actually take him down", she grunted slightly as she moved about the room, "whether I'm injured or not"

Hunter chuckled lightly as she, again gingerly, sank into the seat next to him, wincing as she put more of her weight against her ribs.

"I'm not so sure about that sweetheart, but if you want to keep getting yourself hurt by trying, then by all means, be my guest, just don't expect me to join you"

"You're just sour because he spent two hours flattening you"

Hunter grumbled into his mug, "Not my fault that he's a bloody war machine - and not the cool kind with a mini-gun on his back either"

"Apparently Agent Skye used to call him the T-1000 when she thought he wasn't in earshot"

"Well… she's not completely wrong about that idea"

"Hmm", finding that she was able to breathe more evenly now, she reached across him to pour herself a cup of coffee, before taking a long, gratifying sip, "has he told you why the others won't go near him with a ten foot pole yet? Or have any of the others told you, for that matter?"

"Nope", he replied, popping the 'p', "he kinda, _sorta_ , hinted that it had something to do with the little one, maybe, but that's all I've gotten out of him"

She blew out a breath, "At least it's a start. Has Idaho-"

"He's got nothing either sweetheart"

"Dammit", she cursed under her breath, "d'you think… d'you think we _have_ to know?"

"I don't think we _have_ to", he stood up, draining the remainder of his tea as he did so, "like, it's not gonna kill us if we don't, and we've been fine so far, _but_ , I'm going to find out anyway", he offered her his hand, wiggling his fingers, "so are you coming or not?"

She gulped down the rest of her coffee, enjoying the slight burn at the back of her throat as she felt slightly more energised than before, before she pulled herself gingerly to her feet, "I'm sure as hell not gonna miss this"

The two of them clasped hands, before he pulled her into his side, giving her something to lean on slightly, as they made their way over to the door together, pushing it open, only to find Idaho on the other side, mid-step and reaching for the door handle, probably looking for the two of them. He took a moment to take in the sight of them, and couldn't help but notice that Hartley was leaning on Hunter.

"Ward again?" Was all he asked, and receiving two nods of confirmation, his shoulders shook with a silent laugh, which allowed Hunter to yank him to stand against Hartley's other side, where he immediately moved to help support some of her weight. A sigh of relief escaped her as more of the weight was lifted from her as she turned to face Idaho.

"We're going to interrogate Ward about why no one on this base, other than Coulson, is talking to him", she offered him a conspiratorial grin, "you in?"

He offered them both a smirk in return, "Definitely"

* * *

Rather unsurprisingly, they all thought, he was sat with Grace when they found him. The two of them were sat together on the couch in the lounge, with Grace cuddled into her father's side, while Coulson was preparing a rare team lunch, made rarer, by the fact that it was one of the few days he'd been on base in the last few weeks.

Ward held one of the Harry Potter in his hands, the second book if Hunter remembered the order rightly, which should have been cute to look at, but they were glad to see Coulson had a slight expression of confusion on his face, though it was less extreme than their own, given that he had presumably been there for a while now.

Ward was reading the book to his daughter, using different voices for what they assumed where the different characters, to great effect, and much to Grace's great delight, however there was just one thing that stood out to them above that.

He was reading it in Russian.

At least, Hunter thought it was Russian - he wasn't completely sure on that front either.

And from the excitement written across her face, she was keeping up with it.

Which meant that the five year old girl sat on her father's lap, was able to speak Russian (or whatever language it actually was) better than all four of them did.

She could probably do it better than all four of them could combined.

The three of them cleared their throats in unison, having heard enough of the entertainment. Two heads snapped their way, one curious, and the other quickly assessing them, before relaxing slightly at the sight of them.

"Err… could we have a word?" Hunter flicked his eyes towards Grace and then to Coulson, who was frowning at the onions he was using, "in private"

Ward still eyeing them with something akin to caution, before he slowly nodded his consent, assessing them once again, "Coulson, how long-"

"Fifteen minutes"

He placed a bookmark on their page, snapping the book before placing it on the coffee table in front of them and pulling Grace to her feet.

"Go get cleaned up for lunch"

"'Kay Daddy"

She jumped up, pulling him down by his shoulders to kiss his cheek before bounding out the room, half-skipping, half-running, and grabbing the book as she went, heading straight for the bathroom the two of them shared. He watched her until she slipped out of the room and moved down the corridor, before following her part way, the other three in tow, and slipping into one of the base's many storage rooms.

There were cardboard boxes surrounding them, stacked high from floor to ceiling, each one filled with the items that they'd managed to salvage from the few non-completely destroyed SHIELD bases, or that they'd stolen from the raids carried out against a few of the HYDRA bases, whose location they were not yet privy to.

Following Ward, the trio hobbled further into the room, until they all reached a circular space that had been left clear in the centre of the room, supposedly a space to do the inventory work that no one ever actually seemed to do.

"So….", the SHIELD Specialist trailed off, attempting to give them an opening to speak about whatever it was they'd cornered him for.

And they said nothing.

The silence dragged on for several, very long, minutes, before it became too much for Hunter to take.

" _Whydoesnooneelseonthebasetalktoyou?"_

It took several more seconds for the stoic specialist to try and decipher what had been asked of him, before he responded with a simple, "What?"

Rolling her eyes at her comedic counterpart, Hartley stepped out of the support of Hunter and Idaho, and towards him, facing him more full-on, "Why doesn't anyone here talk to you?"

"Oh…", he grimaced, his nose wrinkling slightly, "you want to know _that_ "

"Yes _that_ ", Hunter stepped forward, joining his friend, "it's kinda worrying that no one here will talk at you, like, at all"

"Or even _look_ at you", Idaho added, as he too, stepped forward to join his friends.

"It's a long story", he looked conflicted for a moment, before shaking his head, "and I'm not really up for sharing"

"It's a long story", Hunter's voice was thick with sarcasm, "that's all anyone here on this base ever says. You said it, Coulson said it, Skye said it, and Tripp… well actually Tripp just squirmed a bit, cracked a joke and then disappeared, but still, my point stands"

"By not telling us", Idaho pointed out to him, looking as completely serious as Ward had ever seen him, "you're all, indirectly, lying to us. Not great when we're supposed to be building trust"

The specialist sighed, looking defeated for the first time since they'd met him, "I will tell you, and I'll tell you everything", at their thankful expressions, he shit them a sad smile, "just not today"

And with that, he left them behind as he exited the storage room, going to check in on Grace, and make sure she was ready for lunch with the whole team. Coulson insisted on having them, even though everyone there was completely tense the entire time, half on them spent the time glaring at their plate, while the others stared off elsewhere, hoping to be excused as quickly as possible, while young Grace, completely unaware of the tense environment, rattled off about everything and anything she wanted, to the undivided attention of Ward, Coulson and Hunter, while Idaho, Isabelle and Tripp joined in whenever they saw the chance to have fun.

"Maybe we shouldn't be the ones that push this…", Idaho offered, from where he was lounging against the pillows of Izzy's bed.

Hunter and Izzy shared a look, before turning back to back to their partner, both sporting knowing grins, and speaking in unison.

"Nah"

* * *

 **Six Days Later**

The ' _clack clack_ ' of the sound of metal on metal contact reverberated down the hallway, lighting up the area with the noise of constant combat, and the seemed to be gathering a lot of attention, as Coulson entered the training section of his base, stepping out of the elevator to the same metal on metal noise, and the low muted cheers and boos of the two dozen agents who had gathered there, staring through the window to the gym itself.

"Hem hem", he cleared his throat, for the nearest six men to whirl around, looking at him in thinly veiled apprehension, and the nearest one gulped, before one of his newest men - they were all new recruits though, he was sure of that - spoke up, "Mister Director Sir, we weren't sure when you were supposed to be coming back to base… how are you today?"

He smiled at them, "I'm very well, thank you… Agent Roberts, wasn't it? You're one of the new hires?"

The younger man nodded at him, "Yes Sir, Mister Director Sir-"

"-Just 'Director' is fine"

"Yes Director"

"So then", he clapped his hands together as he strode forwards, "what's got you all so engaged"

Wordlessly, and smirking slightly, Agent Roberts took a step backwards, opening a gap, where the others did the same to allow their boss through, and when he got through, he supressed a sigh at the sight that greeted him.

 _In hindsight,_ he mused, _I shouldn't really be_ that _surprised…_

At the side of the gym's entrance, Hunter and Idaho were sat on two chairs with a small desk in between them. Idaho held a small clipboard, taking down names and numbers, while Hunter had a plastic tub filled with green paper notes.

 _…_ _after all, if anyone here was going to start a betting ring, it would be those two._

"Gentlemen, how's business?"

He bit down on his lip, as the two men's heads snapped up, jaws opening and closing with no noise coming out, looking every inch two little boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hi Phil!"

Whipping his head around, he found Grace sat on a pile of blue training mats, her feet dangling off the edge as she used the colouring book he'd picked up for her on his last recruitment trip out of the base.

"Hello Grace, and how are you today little miss?"

She giggled as he brushed her hair out of her face, "I'm okay, and look, I'm using your book!"

"I can see that. Are you having fun?"

"Yeah! Lots!"

"Okay then", he ruffled her hair, and she pouted at him, before he gave his full attention back to his two non-agents, "so what exactly is going on here?"

"Well Sir", Idaho jumped up out of his chair, slinging his arm around Coulson's shoulders, and guiding him towards the door, where he could see what was happening, "if you wanna go a round, then the fee to fight is fifty bucks, and if you wanna place a bet, then your minimum stake is twenty bucks. Currents odds are at seventeen to one, for the new guy to become the champ, as most people like to go for the challenger", at his confused look, he added, "what? Everyone loves a good underdog story"

"Especially if it makes them more money", Hunter added, not looking up from where he was sorting through their intake.

"Okay, so which one of my agents is the… of course it is"

He was led into the doorway, where he looked on as Ward, never one to be too far away from his daughter, and with a metal Bo staff in hand, batted away the attacks coming from his opponent, who he was sure was called Agent Percival, who held a twin steel baton in each of his hands.

"What are the odds on Ward?"

"Three to one, bossman. Not very high, so noy much on a return, why?"

Wordlessly, he slipped a twenty dollar bill put of his jacket pocket, holding it up to the merc, who passed it off Hunter, who was more than happy to add it their growing list of wagers, handing the Director back a written slip, with his stake and odds, as well as Hunter's signature.

"Okay then…", he turned his attention back to the fight, where his senior field agent was about to renew his current bout, both men having backed off to catch their breath, and he couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his lips, "game on"

* * *

"What's going on here then?"

Looking as confused as the other two felt, Tripp stepped out of the elevator, with May and Skye right behind him. He'd been asked to join the two ladies' training sessions, as his own fighting style was based more on his strength and a few brute force attacks, than May's style, which relied on her speed to make multiple strikes, making him much more similar to the types of security guards and HYDRA soldiers they'd have to face in the field.

When he'd pointed out they had another large, male, combat specialist, who could also act as a guard, and as a second sparring partner, so Skye could watch and practice her moves at the same time, well, the last he'd been glared at so hard was when he'd blown that op over the South China Sea, that was 'vital' for John-

Oh yeah, that's why they were glaring to begin with.

The three of them made their way towards the centre of the noise, and the specialist felt his eyes widen as he caught sight of Coulson stood next to some of his junior agents at one of the large windows.

His black suit jacket was off, and his blue tie had been removed, both of them draped over a nearby chair, while his shirt was untucked at the front, and he had his sleeves rolled up, albeit neatly, to his elbows. On the table next him, he had several slips of white paper, which Tripp realised were betting slips, two empty and one half-full, bottles of beer, and a small pile of paper bills.

 _What the hell's going on?_

"Ah guys, glad to see you could join us", Hunter's voice cut across from them, and he as unsurprised to find that he and Idaho were the ringleaders of the new SHIELD brokerage system, "fancy making a bet?"

"Phil!" May yelled at him, ignoring the two sat at the table, and trying to draw their boss's attention over the cheers and calls of the assembled audience, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Just a second Mel!"

He called back to them over his shoulder, too engrossed in the ongoing fight to turn away from it and address them properly, and Tripp felt his eyebrows shoot up, before he brought them under control.

 _Since when did the Director start calling Agent May 'Mel'._

Wondering what exactly was going on, he tried to squeeze in next to his boss, and get a good view of the fight he assumed was going on, but before he made any headway, he was pushed back as everyone in the area jumped up, looking excited, mirth dancing across their faces, before they let out a collective groan, dropping their shoulders in defeat, while Coulson's grin only grew in size.

"Woo! Now _that's_ what I'm talking about!"

Feeling completely stunned, even May seemed to be at a loss, he didn't think their always straight-laced boss was even capable of making that noise, never mind doing it while his subordinates looked at a complete loss, as he marched over to Hunter, dropping a paper slip onto his desk, as the merc, grinning at him, handed over a small wad of cash, which The Director uncurled, counting it, before he turned around, dropping it onto the small pile he'd already accumulated.

"Phil", May's voice grabbed everyone's attention, laced with a level of venom that caused Tripp to shiver slightly, "what're you doing here?"

"Relax May", he took a quick swig from his beer bottle, grimacing at the taste, "the boys here", he indicated everyone who was busy getting a re-fill on their beers before the next fight could start, "set up a little fight tournament between themselves, and these two", he pointed towards Hunter and Idaho, "have a little betting ring going for those who were either knocked out, or just didn't want to compete. It's all just a bit of harmless fun. Good team bonding too", he added, as an afterthought, while he nodded, happy with his explanation.

"Okay, so who's-"

"What's the take?"

Stepping out of the training area, dressed only in dark blue sweatpants, with white wraps around his wrists and ankles, Ward passed off his Bo staff to the nearest agent, who moved to place it on a stand, while Idaho threw him a towel, allowing him to wipe the sweat from his face and chest, draping it around his neck, before downing half of the water bottle Hunter threw at him.

"Well…", the Brit rifled through his papers, "we stand at roughly seven hundred each, and you get the extra for the actual fights you entered and won, which puts you at a little bit over eleven hundred"

"Heh", he whistled, and then threw the towel back at Idaho, "s'not bad for a few hours of extra training", he shot a sly look at Coulson from the corner of his eye, "more than he's paying me anyway"

Idaho chuckled from across the desk, giving a mocking, "Ouch", before his expression became slightly more serious, "so we done for the day?"

"Yeah", he finished the last of his water, "I think if I beat any more of them, we'll have no one left for actual missions"

"Glory be to SHIELD", Hunter gave a mock salute with one hand, while still rifling through his papers, not taking his eyes off of them, as Hunter grinned in response, and Ward found himself rolling his eyes, something he'd taken to doing a lot of in recent weeks.

"So how many did you beat up?"

Izzy drew everyone's attention from where she'd appeared in the crowd, dropping down on the mats next to Grace, who carried on colouring without a care in the world, eyeing Ward up like she was a lioness and he, a particularly interesting gazelle.

"Eleven", he answered blandly, taking an interest in his hands, "I really need to step up their training. Now, if the Director would just let me-"

"You are not, and I repeat, NOT, dropping my new agents off in the wilderness to see if they survive the experience, Agent Ward, and that is an order"

Looking slightly put out, the specialist shook his head, perching himself on the edge of Hunter's table, as the gathered crowd moved to disperse as a group, heading for the elevator and stairs, and looking slightly put out at the mention of no more fights for the day.

Coulson stayed long enough to clean himself up, straightening his shirt and jacket, and knotting his tie, before he bid them a farewell, excusing himself to his office, to catch up on some of his paperwork, taking Grace and her colouring book with him, while the others cleaned up.

May marched into the gym, Skye following close behind her, and Tripp trailing after them, looking apologetic, as he dropped a few empty bottles into the trash bag Idaho had produced.

Within five minutes, the rest of them had the corridor looking as good as it had before they'd arrived, and the remaining four of them had taken seats around the table, each nursing a bottle, as Idaho and Hunter counted exactly how much profit the three men had made, and Hartley looked torn between irritation and resigned, but was still eyeing Ward up like he was prey, making him feel nervous.

"So…", she began, ignoring all semblances of tact, "are you gonna tell us today?"

Standing, Ward smirked down at them all, as he drained the last of his beer, and they looked up, daring to hope.

The specialist looked over to where his daughter was still colouring away, mindless to their conversation, as his eyes grew hard, like gazing into stone.

"Do any of you have kids?"

"No"

"Nope"

"I really hope not"

They all spared a glare for Hunter, before Ward pressed on, "It's a long story, I know I've said that before, but a psychopath managed to get a hold of Grace while I wasn't around to protect her, while I was off running around with this team", he spared a wistful look to where the three agents were stretching in the gym, "I had to make a choice, betray the team and help the psychopath, or lose Grace"

"And your choice-"

"There was no choice to make", his gaze hardened as he turned his glare on them, "Grace comes first, Grace has always come first, and Grace _will_ always come first"

"And the others…"

"Didn't know I had a daughter", he chuckled, humourlessly, "suffice to say, they didn't take it well when they found out, and that was after I beat May, Skye and Tripp single-handedly, buying for time, just to see if there was enough time for Fury to mount an actual rescue mission. Their pride mixed with their anger, and well…"

"Wait, so that's what all this is about? You keeping your child safe"

"Yeah, but to them, it was a betrayal", he looked back over to the training area, where May was attempting to teach Skye a new disarming manoeuvre, "one that they haven't gotten over yet. Coulson says they will, that they just need time"

"And you? What do you need?"

"I just need Grace to be safe"

"Well mate", Hunter placed a hand on his shoulder, "as long as we're around, she always will be"

And for the first time since HYDRA stepped out of the shadows, he finally felt something akin to 'happy' blossom inside of his chest, it was an unfamiliar feeling, but one he welcomed, as he placed his hand over the British man's, "Thank you"


End file.
